KRISTEN'S POV

The hall had been alive only moments before filled with clinking cutlery, low murmurs of conversation, and the faint scent of freshly baked bread that lingered in the air. I had only half paid attention to it all. My gaze, as usual, was caught where it always strayed—toward her.

Eliana.

She had been seated a little farther from me that night, her posture composed, her eyes guarded. Ever since that cursed day she sneaked out to meet those rogues she had been… ...